


the finish line

by iwasbitch



Category: haikyuu
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Haikyuu - Freeform, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Timeskip, Romance, SakuAtsu, Soft Sakusa, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasbitch/pseuds/iwasbitch
Summary: But Atsumu couldn't move. It was as if his body was frozen in place, eyes glued to his coffee. Because in that moment, at 10:20 pm on a cold, frosty Thursday night, alone in his kitchen, all Atsumu could focus on was the colour of his milk-less coffee which resembled a pair of dark brown, almost black, eyes of a certain man who he realised he hadn't stopped thinking about since he stepped inside of his home.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70





	the finish line

**Author's Note:**

> It’s Haikyuu angst week but this is me posting sakuatsu fluff— you’re welcome. 
> 
> Please go easy on me, this was my first ever fic, I am by no means a professional writer.

"And what's got you in such a grump, barbie?" Atsumu heard from behind him just as the chair next to him was pulled out and the owner of the voice plopped themselves rather graciously into it. 

Atsumu chuckled at the nickname, rolling his eyes fondly at the man who was now seated beside him. Suga had been calling him that godforsaken name ever since their first proper conversation after their volleyball match against each other all the way back in high school. Apparently, according to Suga, it was the first thing that came to mind when he saw his hair colour for the first time. 

Now he will not stop bloody calling him it. He hated it at first, but it's begun to grow on him, though he'd never admit it. 

"I'm not in a grump," he says, sighing dramatically. He then proceeds to continue to glare down into his coffee as though it had personally wronged him somehow. Exactly how someone who was in a grump would. 

Suga rolled his eyes as he poured sugar—holy shit how much sugar does he put in his tea?— and nudged Atsumu. "Oh, don't patronise me. I can tell when my friends are in a grump, especially you, since you're no good at hiding it at all," he said, clearly not bothering to beat around the bush. 

Atsumu gaped at him, seconds away from giving him a good, long lecture on how he wasn't in a grump and even if he was, he'd do an excellent job of hiding it, before deciding that it was simply not worth it and that Suga would always, always be able to tell when something is up. 

So he gave in and poured his heart out to Suga in the middle of a cute little cafe on the outskirts of Osaka, drinking a warm cup of coffee while he was at it. Surprisingly, it was rather therapeutic. 

Maybe he should do this more often. 

"Ah," Suga said once he had stopped rambling and returned to sulking in his chair quietly. "so it was unrequited love. Hmm," he hummed, glancing out of the window next to him, looking like he was deep in thought. Contemplating. 

Atsumu glanced up from his cup and turned his eyes toward Suga's face. He had suddenly gotten really quiet, which was pretty uncharacteristic of Suga. He was usually loud, funny and in bright spirits. It was why the two got along so well— they were pretty alike in that sense. 

Atsumu tilted his head to the side as his eyes flitted over the side of Suga's face. He narrowed his eyes before blurting out his question. 

"You know anythin' 'bout unrequited love?" He immediately regretted asking, unsure about whether it was a sore subject or not. He then cringed at the silence that followed said question. 

Suga hadn't moved his head from the window, and he hadn't said a word for a few minutes now. Atsumu was just about to bash his face into the table for asking such a personal question and upsetting his closest friend after Samu and Suna, but before he could get to damaging his face, Suga answered. 

"Yeah," he said, almost inaudibly. "Yeah, I know a lot about unrequited love." 

Atsumu blinked, not expecting that answer. Who on earth wouldn't love Suga? He was the complete package. Beautiful, sweet, funny— and the man could bake! Atsumu couldn't wrap his head around someone not returning Suga's feelings. 

He desperately wanted to prod further on the subject, but that would be incredibly rude. Plus, he already felt bad enough for dampening the mood. The last thing he wanted to do was force Suga to take a deep dive into a retelling of his tragic love (or lack thereof) story. 

"Uhhh," Atsumu mumbled unhelpfully, trying to hastily change the subject to something else, but coming up short. Suga just sighed and glanced at him from the corner of his eye before facing his head forwards once again. 

"I know you're dying of curiosity right now," he started. "All I'm going to say, is that you shouldn't dwell on a person that does not love you back. It does nothing but bring you pain," he said, finalising his point with a sip of his tea. 

"That's so much easier said than done, especially for me. No one likes me," Atsumu grumbled, quoting what his brother had told him last week when they had gotten in a fight (Samu had apologised and he knew he didn't actually really mean it, but it had not left his mind ever since, until he realised it was because what he said— was true). 

No one liked him. 

Except maybe Suga, Hinata and Samu himself. But even then, he wasn't too sure about his brother at times. 

He sighed like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, which to be fair, unrequited love plus being disliked by almost everybody did kind of feel like the weight of the world. 

"That's not true, Tsumu," Suga said, pulling him out of his (very depressing) reverie, and back to reality. Ah yes, the same reality where he had confessed to the man he was crazy in love with, before being rejected by that very man. Fuck. He was so fucked. 

"But it is, that's the thing, Suga. Either way, Kita-san rejected me and then continued on his way like he hadn't just broken the heart of a poor young maiden, completely shattering his perception of love forever," Atsumu said, furrowing his brows and glaring into his now empty coffee cup. Damn, he finished it too fast, he didn't even get to savour it. Fuck his life. 

"You are so dramatic," Suga replied, completely unamused and exasperated. Atsumu merely let out a 'hmp' and crossed his arms across his chest, pouting like a child. 

"Listen," Suga tried to explain his point. "What I'm saying, is that there is no point chasing after people who are running away. You're going to keep on running and running and running until you realise that you'll never reach the finish line, simply because there isn't one. Are you listening Atsumu? There isn't a finish line with love that isn't returned. Soon you'll find yourself in the middle of a long, lonely track and Kita-san will be nowhere to be found, and you'll tell yourself 'damn, what a waste of energy, I wish I had just taken a different direction'." 

Atsumu gaped at him, trying to process all of what he had just heard roll from Suga's tongue. It made sense but didn't at the same time. He sat there, confused, for a moment before he finally spoke. 

"So....what you're saying is....I should take a different track?" He finally said, brain still going a mile a minute. 

"Exactly," Suga said, looking him straight in the eyes, as though to convey how serious he was about this. 

"Right," he replied. It was silent for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word, before he spoke again. 

"What does that mean exactly?" He questioned, with a very, very confused expression on his face. 

"It means," Suga said, "that you shouldn't limit yourself to people who will not return your feelings. You shouldn't limit yourself to whatever feels safe. Despite what you believe, there are a lot of people who like you, Atsumu. You've just been looking in all the wrong places. There are people who would appreciate every inch of you. They are out there. Sometimes you'll find that you'd been looking far and wide when they'd been right there, under your nose, the entire time. And you'll tell yourself, 'Wow, I'm such a dumbass, how could I not see this person is it for me, and they've been right there the entire time!" 

Atsumu blinked, once again floored by Suga's ability to formulate a bunch of thoughts together and articulate them so well, presenting them so perfectly and helpfully. 

And then all his thoughts came to a screeching halt as a realisation sprung upon him. 

"Wait!" he practically screamed, slamming his cup down onto the little table they were sat at. A few heads turned their way at the disturbance, and Suga quietly apologised to them before looking back at Atsumu with an annoyed expression on his face. But Atsumu didn't care about that, he was too focused on Suga at the moment, and all the words he had just spewed to him. How it almost sounded like....

"Suga!" he blurted, voice a little quieter this time. Suga merely raised a brow at him, silently urging him to continue. 

"Do you like me?!" He whisper-yelled his question, leaning forward so he could get a closer look at the man in front of him. He had never given any hint that he may have felt a certain way toward him before, but maybe Atsumu was just oblivious....

However, any suspicions about Suga liking him were all flushed down the toilet at the incredulous (and disgusted— damn, he couldn't lie, that hurt) look on Suga's face. 

"Why the fuck would you think that? Of course I don't fucking like you!" He spluttered, looking very offended. Atsumu frowned at that, but calmed down, sinking back down into his seat, that he hadn't even realised he had stood up from. 

"Well, with the way you were taking, I just, I don't know...," he mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Suga just looked at him exasperatedly. 

"Yeah, I was being a good friend, Atsumu. Which I will stop doing if you're just gonna assume I like you," he said, clearing everything up for him. 

"Ah, no, that's fine," he said, embarrassed. "It won't happen again, promise." 

Suga seemed to take that for an answer and went back to drinking his tea. It was quiet for a while before Atsumu decided to break the silence once again. 

"Say, Suga?" 

"Yes, Barbie?" 

"Do you like someone?" Atsumu asked, glancing at him from beneath his lashes. It had been on his mind since a while into their conversation, and he finally decided to voice it— whether that was a good idea or not, he was yet to find out. 

He thought Suga might just roll his eyes, or ignore him, or maybe even kick him and tell him to mind his own business, but he did none of that. 

No, no, Suga— Suga blushed. 

Atsumu's eyes were as wide a two saucers. What the hell. What the hell what the hell what the hell. Since when did Suga blush? 

Slowly, a grin began to creep its way up Atsumu's face. "You do! You like someone!" He said, laughing. Suga glared at him and hissed at him to shut up under his breath. 

After Atsumu had finished laughing, and Suga had ensured a bruise on his shin, he finally asked the golden question. 

"So?" Atsumu asked. 

"What?" Suga replied. 

"So," Atsumu said, "who is it?" 

Suga blushed— again, God, had Atsumu just waltzed into an alternate reality?— and sneered at him from over the rim of his cup. "As if I'd tell you," he said. 

"Oh, come on! I told you all about my crush! You know I won't tell anyone," he tried to persuade him. 

Suga let out a 'tch' but Atsumu could tell he was going to give in. Suga want the type to keep these things to himself. He liked to gossip, and he liked to talk to his friends about boys. He couldn't have kept this to himself no matter how much he feigned secrecy. 

Suga mumbled a name, but it was so quiet, barely audible, that Atsumu had to strain his ears trying to hear it. But when Suga repeated the name, this time louder, he had to pick his jaw up off of the floor. 

"O-Oikawa?!" Atsumu might as well have had a loudspeaker and announced it to the whole of Japan with how loud he parroted the name back to Suga. Suga glared at him again, cheeks aflame, and smacked the back of his head, calming Atsumu down. 

"You like Oikawa?" he asked again, if only for confirmation that he hadn't heard wrong the first time. But he knew he didn't. There was no way he could mishear that name. 

"Yes," Suga said, looking very embarrassed. Atsumu kind of wanted to poke some light hearted fun, but thought better of it. Instead, he continued to question Suga. 

"Have you told him?" 

Suga looked at him, and he could tell he was trying to fight back a smile. It was sort of endearing. He hardly got to see Suga like this. It was a rarity. 

"Yes— well, he confessed to me first. We're— kind of seeing each other right now," Suga said. "We're not making it public yet, though. It's still quite new," he finished, clutching his little teacup in his hands and glancing to the side, avoiding Atsumu's eyes. 

Atsumu was astonished. He really did not expect this. Falling back into his chair, he crossed his arms across his chest and smiled. "Huh," he said. "Who would've thought." 

Suga didn't say anything and just went back to drinking his tea. 

"What's he like in bed, then?" Atsumu asked, a cheeky smile on his face. Suga whipped his head up and glared again, face a bright red colour. 

"I'll fucking kill you," he said. 

Atsumu threw his head back and let out a deep laugh. "I don't doubt it!" 

•••

That night, when Atsumu got into bed, he couldn't sleep. The only thing circling his mind was Suga's words. Was there someone who could like him? It always seemed so far-fetched, and he kind of just accepted the fact that no one would after being brutally rejected by Kita-san. 

But the way Suga said it....it was like it wasn't nearly impossible. 

This thought plagued his mind the next day. And the next. And the next. And all the following days after that until it got to the point where he was in the showers after everyone had already left, standing in front of the mirror and screaming his lungs out. 

He didn't notice Sakusa standing at the doorway with a very unimpressed expression on his face until it was a little too late. 

He jumped, towel almost slipping from his waist as a result of the abrupt movement, and he had to grip it to keep it from dropping. He looked up at Sakusa and for a second thought he might've seen Sakusa's eyes drop down to his torso, but waved it off— he probably imagined. 

"Oh, uh hey, Omi-kun, what brings you back?" He asked awkwardly, knowing he had just walked into him screaming like a maniac. 

Sakusa crinkled his brows and from what Atsumu could see of his face (he was wearing his mask), he could tell he he had the same expression he always did whenever he spoke to Atsumu— disgust. 

"I forgot something in my locker and was about to leave when I heard screaming coming from here. I thought someone was being murdered or something. Somehow I'm not surprised that it's just you being a dumbass," he said, finishing with a roll of his eyes. 

"Oh, Omi-kun, you know I love it when you degrade me," Atsumu said, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

"You're disgusting," Sakusa replied, voice muffled. However, despite his words, his eyes avoided his own and Atsumu swore he could see a hint of redness on his cheeks. 

He tilted his head to the side like a puppy. Huh. Interesting. 

The fleeting thought left him once Sakusa returned his gaze to him. "Are you done? Showering?" He asked suddenly. 

Atsumu furrowed his brows and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Atsumu missed the way Sakusa's dark eyes followed the movement. 

"Uh, yeah, I just need to get changed and stuff. Why?" He questioned. It was unlike Sakusa to inquire about him like this. 

"If you're done, we can leave together. If you want," He replied, the last part coming out in a mumble, almost bashful. 

Atsumu's brows almost flew off his forehead with how much he raised them. Truth be told, he was incredibly surprised. Again, this was very unlike Sakusa. Sakusa wasn't the type to hang around the others— he preferred his own company and would rather do things alone. Well, that was from what Atsumu could tell, anyway. 

He was so shocked, words wouldn't escape him for about a full minute. During this (slightly painful) silence, Sakusa fidgeted awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. Eventually, he huffed and stuffed his hands into his pockets and directed his eyes towards the floor. 

"Jeez, if you don't want to, just say so. It's not a big deal," he said, looking just the tiniest bit frustrated. Atsumu blinked, only then realising how long he had been quiet for. 

Eyes widening, he waved his hands about and spluttered out a mess of words, trying to backtrack. "No, no, no, that's not it. I was just....surprised, is all," he clarified. "Um, I'll uh, I'll come with. Just give me a couple of minutes to finish up here, and we can head out." 

Sakusa just nodded and walked out, probably to wait near the entrance. In the meantime, Atsumu rushed through all the steps of his post-shower routine, not wanting to make Sakusa wait for longer than he had to. 

He couldn't help but feel nervous. He and Sakusa had never really gotten along very well. It's not that they hated each other or anything— they didn't even necessarily dislike each other— they just tended to bump heads on more than one occasion, and, well, they were just complete different people. 

Polar opposites, really. 

But truthfully, Atsumu had always sort of admired him. He was an eloquent player, and so very talented. Skilful, too. Basically everything anyone could want in a teammate. 

He was also really, really attractive. 

Atsumu blushed at the thought. Yeah, Sakusa Kiyoomi was probably one of the most attractive people he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. There was just...something about him. His fluffy looking curly hair, those dark eyes, that mysterious aloofness about him. Oh, and, of course that gorgeously broad back of his. 

So, yeah, Atsumu was (understandably) nervous. 

Sighing, he brushed those thoughts away. Thinking someone was painfully hot was nothing new for Atsumu. They said beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and Atsumu was one hell of a beholder— he appreciated all kinds of faces and bodies. And so he told himself that this was not a big deal— nope, not a big deal at all. 

He didn't dwell on the fact that it felt like he was trying desperately to convince himself that this was true. 

When he stepped out the doors of the showers, he found Sakusa hovering about not too far from where he was. He seemed a bit off— agitated, almost. As if he had something urgent to attend to and needed to be there as soon as possible. Atsumu couldn't understand why he would ask to walk home together if he was going to act like he was being held against his will. 

Oh well, he thought. It was Sakusa's fault for the offer. He wasn't going to back out now, no matter how weird he was acting about it. 

As he reached Sakusa, the raven haired man looked up at him from his phone screen before pocketing the device. They began to walk together, in stride with each other, side by side. 

The sky outside was now a navy blue littered with stars that shone like diamonds. The air was cold, and Atsumu could see how his breath formed clouds everytime he exhaled. 

It was quiet between them as they walked and with anyone else, he would've found it awkward, considering he was a big talker. But Sakusa was always kind of quiet— he didn't really feel the need to make needless conversation. Which was fine with Atsumu, he didn't mind basking in comfortable silence with someone he felt close enough to. 

And he did. Feel close to Sakusa, that is. Well, as close as one could feel to an introvert slash germaphobe. It might seem weird to say that considering, as previously mentioned, they didn't get along very much— but with Sakusa, somehow despite that, he never felt out of place with him. Never uncomfortable. No matter how much they argued or disagreed on things. 

They came to a stop at a pedestrian crossing when Sakusa chose to break the silence. "How's the serve going?" He asked as he glanced at Atsumu from the corner of his eye. Due to his taller height, he had to almost tilt his head downwards to look at Atsumu. For some reason unknown to him, Atsumu could not help but think that the action was strangely endearing. He stopped that train of thought right there and instead answered the question at hand. 

"Uh, the new one? Not so great, to be honest. I feel like 'cuz I'm focusing so hard on it, I'm putting all my effort into it and now it's starting to effect all my other serves, and then everything else too. It's kind of fucking everything up, but I don't wanna stop. Cuz it's like, really fuckin' cool, ya know?" He said as the light turned green and they walked across the road. 

Atsumu almost felt a little embarrassed at the way he practically rambled about his shitty serve, but Sakusa just hummed in acknowledgement. He didn't know why he felt as though he would laugh or something, but a warm feeling flooded his chest at Sakusa's next words. 

"It may take a minute, but you'll get it soon enough. You always do," he said. He didn't say it to comfort Atsumu. Didn't say to make him feel better about himself. He said it as though it was a fact, like it was merely the commonsensical truth. And for some reason, that meant so much more to Atsumu than if he had said something out of pity or sympathy. 

Pushing down the butterflies that were taking flight in his stomach, he just nodded and whispered out a small 'yeah'. It was quiet again after that, until he noticed they were taking a route different to the way he usually went. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked at Sakusa. "Is this another way to our places?" he asked, confused. 

Turning his head to Atsumu, Sakusa answered his question. "Yeah, it's a shortcut I sometimes take when we leave later than usual. It's a different track but it passes both of our places, so I thought it would be easier and quicker to go this way. We can go the other way, though, if you want," he said, pulling one of his hands out his pocket to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. 

Just then, a car drove past them both. The bright headlights shone in the dark and bathed Sakusa in fluorescent amber rays. He looked like he belonged in a museum. Atsumu couldn't tear his eyes away from the picturesque sight in front of him. He decided right then and there that Sakusa must've been a fallen star in his past life. 

A different track. 

That was what Sakusa had said, wasn't it? Why did that sound so familiar? 

"Atsumu?" Sakusa asked, pulling him out of his daydream. Flushing at how lost in thought (about a certain someone) he had been, he hastily replied, forcing himself to shake those dangerous images from his mind.

"Uh, no, it's fine. I was just wondering. It's kinda cold anyway, so it'd be good to get inside as soon as possible." He was talking quickly and stumbling over his words, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. He had no idea what had just changed inside of him, but to be honest, it felt kind of monumental. Like this was the turn of a new chapter, or something sappy like that. He tried not to think anymore on it for the rest of the walk, which was admittedly quite hard as it was once again silent between them. 

At long last, though, they arrived in front of Atsumu's home, and it was time to say goodbye. He felt oddly reluctant to part ways, but he managed to say a small 'see ya later, Omi-kun' and finally, finally stepped inside his quaint home after he had watched Sakusa walk away until he had turned the corner. 

Shutting the door, he toed off his sneakers and shook off his coat, chucking it somewhere on his way to the kitchen. He made a bee-line to the cupboard where he kept all his tea and coffee essentials, grabbed a mug and immediately started on making himself a (well-deserved) cup of coffee. 

All his actions were robotic as he moved around his cosy little kitchen. He liked to think his place was pretty modest. Despite what others may have assumed about him, Atsumu preferred comfort over anything else. He wasn't big on spending or having a big, glamorous house. It also helped the loneliness he felt sometimes, on days when he would miss the sound of his father's quiet conversations, the smell of his mother's home cooked food or the cherished bickering between him and his brother. 

Soon, his thoughts strayed back to his walk earlier with Sakusa. How, in that moment, he had felt more tranquil and at peace than he had in a long, long time. How absolutely, undeniably captivating he had looked. 

Those thoughts then led him back to his conversation he had with Suga, which now felt like it was forever ago. He lifted his mug to his lips to take a sip of his coffee as he sifted back through his memories to that day. He felt random words and sentences coming back to him in a jumbled mess. 

No point chasing after people who are running away. 

I wish I had taken a different direction. 

Been looking in all the wrong places. 

They'd been right there, under your nose. 

The finish line. 

Take a different track. 

He paused then. Take a different track. That was....that was Sakusa said earlier. That's why it had sounded so familiar. 

Just as that thought had formed in his mind, he suddenly registered the bitterness on his tongue. Lowering his eyes to the cup of coffee he was grasping in his right hand, he realised he had forgotten to put milk in it, hence the bitter taste. He should get up and pour some milk in it to save it. 

But Atsumu couldn't move. It was as if his body was frozen in place, eyes glued to his coffee. Because in that moment, at 10:20 pm on a cold, frosty Thursday night, alone in his kitchen, all Atsumu could focus on was the colour of his milk-less coffee which resembled a pair of dark brown, almost black, eyes of a certain man who he realised he hadn't stopped thinking about since he stepped inside of his home. 

•••

That night, Atsumu had a very restless sleep. He tossed and turned, went on his phone for a bit, counted sheep but none of that helped. He even resorted to drinking a cup of milk but that made it even worse as it only reminded him of how he forgot to put milk in his coffee earlier and of Sakusa's eyes and how beautiful he looked—

Safe to say, he was exhausted the next day. So exhausted, in fact, that he apparently had forgotten his jersey for practise which he only realised once he had gotten there. 

Groaning, he rummaged through his bag once more, as if it would magically appear out of thin air until he gave up and plopped himself down into the bench with a heavy sigh. 

Holding his head in his hands, he accepted the fact that he'd just have to borrow one of the spare bibs for the day. It wasn't the end of the world, but he would much rather wear his own top. Those bibs stank. So bad. He doubted they were ever even washed. He could almost smell the hideous stench just from thinking about it. 

Wrinkling his nose, he stood up to go get it, when he was stopped by a figure in front of him. Looking up, he realised it was Sakusa. And all at once, every memory of last night that he had tried so hard to suppress came flooding back, all because of one glimpse of the hauntingly beautiful man that plagued his dreams last night. 

Gulping, he attempted to appear neutral and opted to return his gaze rather than avoid his eyes spinelessly. Miya Atsumu was many things, but a coward was not one of them. 

Before he could say anything, Sakusa shoved something into his chest. "Here," he said. Looking down and grasping the piece of cloth held against his chest, he picked it up and inspected it. When he realised what it was, he felt his flush travel all the way down to his chest and the tips of his ears. 

"This is your jersey," he stuttered. He clenched it tightly between his fingers, as if to stop anyone from taking it away from him. He felt embarrassed by his thoughts and thanked the Lord that Sakusa couldn't read minds. 

"Nice observation, Sherlock," he said in his usual flat tone, but there was also something else there, hidden behind low words and a deadpan expression. Something soft, and bashful. Sweet. 

"You don't have your jersey, right?" He asked. When Atsumu wordlessly nodded, he flicked his head toward the top currently held against his chest and held Atsumu's gaze. "You can wear mine. I always keep a spare with me."

"Ah, uh, of course, thank you. That's very kind of you, Omi-kun," Atsumu said, almost breathless at the lack of space between them. He couldn't even make a teasing remark like usuallly would've. They were so close. He could not concentrate. Atsumu wouldn't be surprised if Sakusa was purposely trying to make him flustered— he did always enjoy riling him up. Though, never in this way. 

Sakusa nodded again and backed off, allowing Atsumu to heave a huge sigh of relief at the distance created between them. He glanced up at Sakusa through his thick lashes and saw that he had a relatively neutral expression on his face. That is, it would be neutral, if he didn't have the tiniest hint of a smug smirk dancing on the corner of his (luscious) lips. 

Atsumu narrowed his eyes, pupils zeroing in on that very smirk that was currently taunting him. His lip pulled back in a sneer, realising that yes, Sakusa Kiyoomi was purposely teasing him— as if he knew of the affect he had on him. Atsumu couldn't lie to himself and say that he didn't enjoy it. 

But, he decided to ignore it and instead pulled the top over his head, smoothing out the creases, and followed the others out into the gymnasium. 

When Sakusa's eyes fell on him and lingered for a bit before moving on, Atsumu felt a weird thrill flow through his body. He couldn't pinpoint why exactly he felt so alert all of a sudden, but all he knew was that he liked— loved having Sakusa's eyes on him. 

Inhaling deeply, he let go of his breath in an exhale and forced himself to put his head in the game. Pondering on his feelings for Sakusa could wait 'till later. Now was time to level up his skills. 

By the end of practise, he was sweaty, sore and his joints groaned in protest at every movement of his limbs. Practise today was gruelling, harsher than usual, and all he wanted to do was go home and knock out for a few hours. 

Grabbing his water bottle, he took a long swig from it with his head tilted back, throat working as he gulped more than half the bottle down, before emptying the rest out onto his head to cool himself down. Running a hand through his hair to push the wet strands out of the way of his forehead, he turned his head to the side and laid eyes on a certain black haired spiker of his. 

Sakusa was entranced. His mouth had gone dry as he gazed at the blonde haired jock standing just a few feet away from him. His mind wouldn't stop replaying the way Atsumu had downed that water and drenched himself in it afterwards, the way he pushed his hair out of the way. 

His eyes had darkened as he continued to stare at the male, who most likely had no idea what kind of effect he had on him. He was stupid like that. So damn attentive when it came to volleyball, but when it came to off-court interactions, it was as if his head was completely hollow. 

And of course Sakusa would be the one to find that heartbreakingly charming. 

And he was wearing his jersey! Sakusa had never, ever regretted a decision so much in his life before. He did it out of kindness (which tells him that perhaps he should no longer do acts out of kindness for others if it will continue to result in this), but seeing Atsumu wearing his jersey with his name scrawled along the back was torture. 

But it was a bittersweet kind of torture. Sakusa briefly wondered if he was a masochist before shooing that thought away with a grimace. 

When Atsumu's eyes abruptly shifted to his, his chest thundered with nervous anticipation. He held his gaze for a few moments, Atsumu looking back with a questioning expression, before he averted his gaze, turning on his heel and swiftly leaving the gym to get to the locker room. 

He couldn't get rid of the burning in his cheeks no matter how hard he pressed his palms against his face. Stupid Atsumu. Stupid, stupid, gorgeous, adorable Atsumu. 

Atsumu followed Sakusa with his eyes as he walked out after staring at him wordlessly. He was incredibly confused and would probably would just end up even more confused if he tried to question Sakusa on his weird behaviour. Thus he decided to drop it and follow him into the locker room. 

Sakusa never used the gym's showers— he preferred to go home and use his own. That's why he was usually the first to be out of there, before anyone else, unless he stayed for extra practice— which he didn't do today. 

So, imagine Atsumu's surprise when he stepped out of the showers only got find Sakusa Kiyoomi sat on one of the benches in the locker room, looking very out of place with his shoulders hunched and head lowered. 

His head whipped up when he heard Atsumu making his way towards him with a pondering tilt of his head. "Hey," he said softly, once he came to a stop in front of him. 

"Hi," Sakusa replied, sounding almost shy. "I, uh, thought we could walk home together, again," he explained himself. Atsumu's eyes widened as he stared at the other man in the room. This was so very unlike Sakusa, but Atsumu was definitely not going to question him. He had just offered, for the second time, to walk home together. 

No way in hell was he going to pass this up. 

"Of course! Of course," Atsumu said, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, before making his way towards the doors, glancing back at Atsumu over his shoulder to check he was following him, which he was. "Come on, let's go." 

As they walked, Atsumu ran a hand over his mouth and subtly glanced at Sakusa in a side eye. Sakusa looked more relaxed now, content almost, as they walked in the quiet of the night. Atsumu guessed he actually preferred the silence. 

But just then, he remembered something, and began speaking, capturing Sakusa's attention. "Oh yeah! Before I forget, I was going to tell you earlier that I'm taking your jersey home to wash it, so I'll have it back to you by Monday," Atsumu said, pointing to his bag as he looked Sakusa in the eyes. 

Sakusa glanced away and shrugged his shoulders, mask muffling his voice when he replied. "You don't have to do that. I can wash it myself." 

Of course Atsumu knew this, but he wanted to do it for him. He felt bad enough for wearing it— he knew how Sakusa was with germs and touching and sharing and he didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, or as if he was crossing any boundaries. So he wanted to do this at least. 

"Ah, it's no big deal. It's the least I can do fer you after ya let me borrow it," he said waving his hand in an 'it's alright' gesture. Sakusa just glanced at him and hummed under his breath. Atsumu took that as an 'okay', and they continued their walk in silence. Like last time, they get to Atsumu's house first, bid their goodbye's and part ways. 

The next day was a Saturday, which meant there was no practise, so Atsumu got to have a nice, long lie in before he got up and got ready for the day. He texted Sakusa to see if he wanted to go out for lunch with the rest of the team (yes, they had started texting each other— what about it?), but was informed that he was out of town for the weekend, so he couldn't make it. 

Atsumu had to remind himself that he was not disappointed— nope, not disappointed whatsoever. Even if he was staring forlornly at Sakusa's phone number every ten minutes. He did it so often that Bokuto had noticed it during their team lunch date (plus Suga— and Samu, because apparently everyone on the team seemed to love him off— fucking stupid Samu, stealing all his friends) and mentioned it, drawing everyone's attention to him. He glared at Bokuto accusingly. Bokuto just blinked back owlishly. 

"I don't keep checking my phone," he denied weakly as he pocketed said phone. He had no new notifications from Sakusa. That shouldn't have upset him as much as it did. 

"Yes, you do. You've been doing it since Omi-san left," Hinata piped in through a mouth full of food. If Sakusa was here, he would glare and snap at him to not speak with his mouth full. 

Good God, Atsumu thought to himself, I'm so pitiful. 

Just as those words left Hinata's mouth, Samu perked up and stole a glance in Atsumu's direction before focusing on Hinata. "Omi-san? You're talking about Sakusa?" he asked, voice strangely eager. 

"Yeah, they've been hanging together a lot lately, actually," Hinata replied, pointedly ignoring the seething Atsumu sat to his right as he indulged his twin in his private affairs. 

"Wait, really?" Suga said, apparently deciding he too was now interested in where this conversation was headed. Atsumu groaned defeatedly and buried his head in his hands. 

"No, we have been not," he attempted to tell them, even as his head was still in his palms, voice coming out muffled. 

"They have," Bokuto, Hinata and Meian replied in unison. Inunaki, Tomas and Barnes just snickered as they ate, apparently also entertaining this silly conversation. 

"No way, that's why you've been asking me to give you some of my vanilla hand sanitizer. Damn, you could've just told me you had a crush," Samu said with a big fat stupid grin on his face, clearly enjoying this. 

"So, you like Sakusa?" Suga asked, looking both baffled but also a weirdly pleased at the same time. "....Nice," he said, grinning like the fucking cheshire cat. 

"I do not like Sakusa, you guys are fucking delusional. And no, I was asking for hand sanitizer fer myself, dumbass," he said, pulling his leg back to send a hefty kick to Samu's shin under the table. Samu merely dodged it and continued beaming back at him as if he'd win the bloody lottery or something. 

"Yes, of course it was for yerself, but you wanted it to impress yer OmiOmi-kun, didn't you?" he said, laughing now as the rest of the table watched on in amusement. 

"I hate you, ya know that?" he mumbled, pressing his forehead into the table, giving up on trying to deny their accusations. It was no use. They had figured out his secret. 

"He's whipped. Like, so whipped," Inunoka spoke up, adding fuel to the fire. Atsumu sent daggers his way, but the man just avoided his eyes as he hid his laugh behind the rim of his glass of wine. 

"Hold on, weren't you, like, heartbroken over Kita-san just a couple of weeks ago?" Suga asked the long-awaited question— well, long-awaited for him, at least. He knew it was probably going to come up at some point. 

"Oh yeah, you came to practise blubbering like a baby," Bokuto said, laughing like he was having the time of his life picking apart Atsumu's (lack of) love life. 

"'I give up on love! It's all a lie! Love is merely a social construction and I will no longer be participating in it. No more love, ya hear me? Society had progressed passed the need fer love!'" Meian mimicked Atsumu from that day when he had bursted through the gym doors like a heartbroken fool, ranting on about fake love. 

The table bursted into peels of laughter, apparently thinking his impression was the funniest thing on earth. "Seriously, captain? You too? Ya know what, I think I need new friends, you guys are nearing yer expiration date," Atsumu wailed, looking severely distressed at his current situation. 

"I don't know, I felt kind of bad," Hinata said, though his shaking shoulders and twitching lips told a different story. Atsumu just sighed, dejected. 

"Whatever. I got over him, anyway," Atsumu said under his breath as he poked and prodded at his food, no longer hungry. It was true, he had gotten over Kita-san. Perhaps he had never liked him as much as he led himself believe. That could be the only possible reason as to why he forgot about his 'heartbreak' so quickly. 

"Wait! You said that Sakusa was the one to initiate the talking and walking home and texting and stuff, right?" Bokuto suddenly exclaimed. When Atsumu reluctantly nodded back, he seemed to light up like the fourth of July. "Maybe that's why! He heard you got rejected by your Kita-san and thought, 'now's my time, there's no more competition!', and now he's making a move on you!" 

Bokuto's theory was followed by complete silence. Everyone was staring at him with wide eyes. And Atsumu knew exactly why. 

It kind of made sense. 

For once, Bokuto had actually said something that made sense. That was....it was....plausible. 

Could Sakusa....like— No, they're was no way. Sakusa didn't like guys like Atsumu. He liked guys like Ushiwaka and Akaashi and Samu. He didn't like Atsumu. 

And yet, despite telling himself this, Atsumu couldn't rid his face of the furious red that was spreading across his cheeks. 

All of a sudden there were a bunch of overlapping voices, excitement practically seeping from their pores as they all commented on Bokuto's revelation. Atsumu could hear phrases like 'wait, that makes sense' and 'Bokuto, yer a genius' and 'sly, sly Sakusa' before he decided to put an end to it all. 

"No, no, no— listen. Sakusa doesn't like me, okay? That's it. End of," he said interrupting them all and silencing them. They must've seen the serous look on his face and— for once— chose to read the room. They just shrugged and swiftly moved onto another topic. Atsumu let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. 

He tried to forget about Sakusa for the rest of the night. 

••• 

It was now Sunday and Sakusa would be back from visiting his family tonight. As much as he hated to admit it, Hinata was right yesterday at the team lunch— he and Sakusa had been hanging out a lot. 

They had also been texting non-stop. It started with a simple 'hey, how're you doing' and 'walking together again?' to 'my family keep pestering me about getting a boyfriend' and 'Hinata and Bokuto are driving me insane, you need to come back asap to save me from this hell'. 

Atsumu knew he was in way too deep when Sakusa sent a selfie of him and his baby nephew with an attached message saying 'this bugger wants to meet you'. He had to put his phone down and take a few deep breaths before he could reply to the sweet, fucking adorable picture. And message. Shit, the message. Someone from Sakusa's family wanted to meet him. Albeit it was a child, but that was beside the point. 

It was weird— he felt like it had happened all at once. His feelings, that is. Like being on a rollercoaster as it slowly, slowly crawls its way up to the very peak, and then suddenly, before you can register what's going on, you're going down, down, down, gravity pulling you to the ground without mercy. 

Terrifying but oh so thrilling. 

That thought lingered in Atsumu's mind all day, up until it was time for him to climb into bed. It was just as he had pulled the covers over him that his phone beeped with a message. Leaning over to his bedside table, he grabbed the cellular device and squinted at the bright screen. His heart stuttered in his chest once he saw who the sender was. 

Sakusa. 

The message read 'I'm back in Osaka now'. 

It was as if Atsumu's brain had short-circuited. The realisation that he really, really liked Sakusa was crashing into him like a tidal wave. His hands shook as he held the phone and just stared at the screen. 

His thumbs hovered over the screen, trying to come up with something to say. It was silly— all he had to do was reply an 'ok, see you tomorrow' and be done with it, but he felt a constricting feeling in his chest and his breaths started getting heavier and he was panicking because he hadn't seen him in two days and he hadn't stopped thinking about him ever since their first walk home together and holy shit I'm in love with Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

The silent admission came with a sharp inhale and his mind came to a screeching halt. 

I'm in love with Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

A man who would never in a million years feel the same way. 

With his mind going a mile a minute, Atsumu couldn't think of what to reply to the message, and so he chose to turn his phone off and attempt to go to sleep. Key word: attempt. Like so many nights filled with thoughts of one man only, Atsumu spent the entire time tossing and turning until the sun was grazing the horizon. 

He sighed and decided he might as well just get an early start to practise, and got out of bed to get ready. Once he had gone through his usual morning routine, he grabbed his keys and bag and headed out the door. 

The nerves of seeing Sakusa were eating inside of him, making him extra alert and perhaps a little anxious. Blowing air into his cold hands, he took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. 

By the time he had reached the gym, he was feeling a little better. He stepped through the doors to be met with the sight of bright orange hair, and grinned at the sight of Hinata already engaged in practice. It was still pretty early, so he was alone, safe for Atsumu himself. 

When he heard Atsumu walking towards him, he turned and beamed up at him. "Tsumu-san! You're here early!" he exclaimed. 

Atsumu chuckled, placing his bag to the side before approaching him. "I could say the same fer you, ging. What're you doing here at the ass crack of dawn?" Hinata just laughed and told him that he wanted to get some extra practise in before everyone else showed up. Atsumu hummed but didn't tell him the reason why he was up so early. 

Atsumu and Hinata spend the next half hour or so just going through some drills and sharpening their quick, when the gym doors banged open and in walked Bokuto with the others in tow. 

With their arrival, brings an immediate rise in noise levels and Atsumu rolls his eyes fondly at Bokkun's loud ass voice. The guy can never speak at a reasonable volume, unless of course he's on the phone with his beloved Akaashi— that's the only time you'd ever hear Bokuto Koutarou speaking softly but with a gentle smile on his face. 

Soon enough, they're all ready to start when the doors are gently pushed open again and this time, it's Sakusa Kiyoomi who walks through the door. He strolls in with elegance and grace and Atsumu cannot rip his eyes away. He wouldn't be surprised if Hinata had told him that he had hearts in his eyes. 

But when those dark eyes landed on his own, he quickly glanced away, on instinct. Chest heaving, he realised he didn't know how to act around him now. He certainly couldn't be his normal chummy, teasing self even if he tried to. Now he liked— no, loved Sakusa and all of a sudden it felt as though the world had tilted on its axis. 

So Atsumu being Atsumu, decided he would ignore him. 

As if that would solve the problem. 

But he told himself that this was for the best because if he allowed himself to indulge in this infatuation for even a moment, he would only end up bitter and heartbroken all over again. Because Atsumu loved and he loved and he loved but he wasn't ever sure that anyone loved him in return. 

So it was final. He would ignore Sakusa and once his heart had hardened itself and these feelings became but a mere memory, he could go back to being normal again. 

But everything doesn't always go to plan— unfortunately Atsumu had to learn this the hard way. 

The longer he kept his eyes glued on anything but the tall spiker, the more and more intense that gaze became, the warmer it made his body feel. It felt like he had a fever, like every single square inch of his build was on fire and Sakusa Kiyoomi was the only remedy that could put an end to this blazing heat. 

It completely threw him off his game, he was messing up sets left, right and centre— something that hadn't happened to him since middle school. And Atsumu knew that the others were noticing, could tell by the way they glanced at each other worriedly, spoke in hushed whispers and approached him like he was a delicate, ceramic doll— as if he would break at any minute. 

And it all became so obviously apparent when Meian finally came up to him and kindly (pityingly) suggested he leave a little early to go and rest up, 'make sure you're ready and on your A-game tomorrow'. 

And it made him mad. Atsumu was so mad. Mad that he couldn't control his feelings. Mad that it was interfering with his career. Mad that he was in love with a man that would never love him back. 

So when he had packed his bag and was more than ready to get the hell out of that damned gym but was stopped by a tall, lean figure— he snapped. 

"What," he spat. Sakusa's eyes widened in surprise. "Why do you want, Sakusa?" 

Sakusa had an unidentifiable emotion swimming in his eyes. His eyebrows were pinched together and the expression on his face looked like he had tasted something sour. But he also looked— vulnerable. Fragile. 

"I was going to—," he had started, voice unnaturally soft, but like the asshole he was, Atsumu interrupted him once again. 

"Just—just leave me alone, okay? Leave me the hell alone," He said, words like knives. They tasted bitter and unforgiving on his tongue and he wanted to stop and apologise to Sakusa, to beg him for forgiveness, to tell him that he didn't mean any of it and that he was so undeniably in love with him, but his lips were faster than his thoughts. The damage was already done. 

The look on Sakusa's face was something that he was sure would haunt him for the rest of his days. His eyes looked empty as they blinked fast and his lips flattened into a straight line and he— 

He looked heartbroken. 

Atsumu had never ever seen an expression like that on Sakusa before, and he didn't ever want to again. Because it made his chest ache and his breath waver. He felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. They had been doing so well too, they'd become close and of course he had to go and ruin it. 

What had he been thinking? 

But before he could open his mouth to try and fix this mess he had made, Sakusa had steeled his features and tilted his head up, looking Atsumu in the eyes with the coldest stare his had ever seen. "Fine," he said, quietly, but filled with so much venom it caused goosebumps to rise in Atsumu's skin. "As you wish." And with that, he spun on his heel and left, leaving Atsumu alone with the aftermath of what he had just done. 

Atsumu was panicking now. He had just ruined their relationship—friendship— whatever the fuck it was and now he didn't know what to do. So he decided, as he left the gym and rushed to get home (taking the same damn shortcut he and Sakusa had made a routine out of going through), to call his guardian angel— Suga. 

On the third ring Suga picked up with a cheerful hello and Atsumu didn't waste any time getting to the point. 

"Suga, Suga, I fucked up, I fucked up so bad," he said into the receiver, fingers going numb in the winter air, but it was nothing compared to his heart at that moment. 

"Woah, wait, slow down. What's wrong?" Suga immediately asked, caring tone seeping through his ears. 

"I—I fucked up. With Sakusa. I got mad today at practice 'cuz I wasn't doing well at all and then he walked into the changing rooms and I kind of took my anger out on him and basically yelled at him and I think I hurt his feelings and now I've ruined our relationship and he's never going to want to speak to me again—," Atsumu rambled, voice getting slightly higher pitched with each word. 

"Atsumu, calm down. It's okay. Now, tell me why you yelled at him," Suga said in his authoritative, no nonsense tone. 

"I—I want doing well in practice—"

"No, I want the real reason," he stopped him right there. Sighing deeply, Atsumu complied. 

"I tried to shut him out. Because I realised that I love him," he said in a voice just above a whisper. He felt like everything around him came to a standstill. He had never said those words out loud before. 

"I love Sakusa," he repeated into the phone, the quietness of the night making the words sound so loud. 

".....Well shit," Suga replied. He sounded like he was smiling. Just as Atsumu was going to nag him that this wasn't a laughing matter, he spoke again. "So if you love him, why on earth would you try to shut him out?" He asked incredulously. 

And now that Atsumu really thought about it, he realised how stupid it sounded. But still, he felt like his reasoning did make sense. Sort of. "Because I know that Sakusa would never feel the same. So I tried to, I don't know, lessen the pain by detaching myself," he said, sighing. 

There was a moment of silence. And then— "That is so stupid. You, Atsumu, are so stupid," Suga said. Atsumu could only splutter in offence, but Suga didn't allow him time to speak. "Listen, here's what you need to do. You need to go to Sakusa's place right now, and apologise to him—," Atsumu cut in before Suga could continue. 

"Wait! Right now?" He asked. It was kinda late and he highly doubted Sakusa would want to see him after what happened. In fact, he probably never wanted to see him again. Atsumu glowered at the thought. 

"Yes, right now. You want to set the record straight don't you?" He asked. Atsumu mumbled out a tiny 'yes', and Suga continued. "Then it's settled. You go there, apologise and explain yourself to him." 

“But—“

"No! No buts. You need to explain yourself to him. He deserves at least that," Suga said, voice very serious. Atsumu sighed deeply, knowing he was right. Fuck. So he was doing this. Just great. 

".......Fine," he grumbled, at last. Suga just hummed and bid him farewell after ensuring him that it would go fine and sending him a 'good luck!'

Atsumu didn't let himself think too hard about it, otherwise he would most likely chicken out, and then Suga would lecture him the next time they saw each other. That, and he would hate himself for not apologising to Sakusa. 

He pockets his phone and began to jog his way home— he was first going to freshen up before he went to see him. The last thing he wanted to do was show up smelly and sweaty. That would probably be reason enough for Sakusa to kick him out. 

Along the way, he passed a store that had a variety of pretty flowers in the window display. Pausing in front of it, he looked at them for a moment before entering the shop and getting a closer look. He inquired with the store attendant for help. He wanted to get flowers for Sakusa that gave a message— he wanted him to know that he was sincerely sorry. 

Settling on a medium sized bouquet of purple hyacinth flowers, which meant sorrow— or 'I am sorry', he was making his way to counter when his eyes caught a bunch of yellow flowers. They were pretty. 

Pointing to them, he asked the employee what they were. 

"Those are acacia flowers. The yellow ones signify concealed love," he said. 

Concealed love. That was perfect. He didn't know if Sakusa was aware of flower meanings. He also didn't know if he wanted him to be or not, considering he would be giving them to him. Did he want Sakusa to figure it out or would he be too embarrassed to let him know? 

Steeling a breath, he grabbed the bouquet in a spur of the moment decision and brought them to the till to buy them. Once he had payed and thanked the employees, he was out the door and back on his journey home. 

When he got home, Atsumu took a (very quick) shower, changed, sprayed himself with one of his new colognes quite a few people had told him was nice and grabbed his bouquet before he practically ran out the door. 

He wanted to run so he would get there quicker, not wanting to waste any more time, but he also didn't want to end up in front of Sakusa's door all sweaty again just after he had taken a shower and gotten presentable. So he settled on a swift jog, and before he knew it, he was stood in front of a white door, fist raised to the door. 

Before he knocked though, he had to take a deep breath and calm his racing heart, which felt like it was ready to jump right out of his chest and invite itself into Sakusa's palms. Blowing out a breath and telling himself 'you can do this', he finally rapped his knuckles twice on the door, before waiting stiffly for any movement. 

Just when he thought Sakusa wouldn't answer and was ready to return back home to bury himself in bed and cry himself to sleep, he heard the telltale sound of a lock turning, and then the door was pushed open. 

And there he stood, looking as stunning as ever. He must've just had a shower as his hair looked wet, black strands laying on his forehead and curling around his ears. He was dressed down, wearing a white top and a pair of sweatpants, feet covered in fluffy socks. Atsumu had never seen him this casual before. He looked really cute. 

Flushing at the thought, he returned his gaze back to the Sakusa. As usual, he had a bored expression on his face, though Atsumu swore he could also detect a hint of hostility in those midnight eyes of his. He wouldn't be surprised if that guess were to be true. 

Licking his lips nervously, he finally found his voice. "Hi," he uttered, lamely. Hi, really? That's all you have to say after acting like such an uptight ass earlier? You're damn lucky he hasn't given you the fucking boot already. 

God, this was already off to a bad start. 

"What do you want," Sakusa said the question like it was a statement, getting straight to the point. Feeling his heart rate jump up a notch, Atsumu could only stare back mutely. 

When Sakusa raised his eyebrow and sighed, irked, Atsumu realised he should probably stop wasting time if she wanted to make things right. Well, as right as they could go. 

"Omi-kun," he started, voice cracking slightly. Feeling his cheeks turn red, he cleared his throat before continuing. "Omi-kun.....I'm so sorry," he said, trailing off. 

Looking at Sakusa's face, he still looked a little irritated, whether it was because he had interrupted whatever he was doing and was taking ten years to spit out why he was here, or if it was because of his shitty behaviour earlier (or both), Atsumu didn't know. 

What he did know, though, was that he absolutely hated the look on his face from when he harshly spat out those words at him, the look of hurt clouding his gorgeous features. 

Hurt. Fuck, he had hurt his feelings. He was such a dick. 

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was....I was in a piss and fer some fucking reason my brain decided it would take out it's frustration on you. And that was a real shitty thing ta do, I know. I don't know if you care, but I also wanted ta let ya know that I didn't mean any of what I said, I promise. And I'm not expecting you ta forgive me— heaven knows I don't deserve your forgiveness anyway— but I just wanted you ta know that I am sorry." 

Atsumu released a huge breath after his speech and just stood there, awaiting the aftermath. 

Sakusa was staring back at him with unreadable eyes. His large hands were fiddling with a necklace that was hung around his neck, and his white teeth were digging into the flesh of his soft, soft looking lips. 

After a moment of silence, which Atsumu had felt a like lasted a bloody lifetime, he finally sighed, rolled his eyes and let go of the necklace to cross his arms, accentuating those biceps of his. 

"It's alright. You're always a bit of an ass, so I don't know why I got all prickly about it. Perhaps I was just overreacting," he finally spoke. His voice was low, but not rough— it flowed off his tongue like butter. Atsumu had always loved the deep, comforting timbre of Sakusa's voice. It sounded like home. 

"No! No, it was me. You had every right to get mad," Atsumu said, shaking his head. "I really am sorry," he winced. 

"Water under the bridge," Sakusa merely murmured. He then flitted his gaze towards Atsumu's left hand, where the bouquet was still tightly clutched. Looking back up at Atsumu with hooded lids, he cocked his head to the side. The sight did something funny to his stomach. "Whatcha got there?" 

Suddenly remembering that he had planned to gift Sakusa with the flowers in a romantic way, he proceeded to present them and answered Sakusa's question. 

"Oh! These are for you," he said bashfully, thrusting the bouquet towards him a little too roughly, red tinting his cheeks. "As....as an apology gift, I guess. It's stupid," he rubbed the nape of his neck and found that he couldn't look Sakusa in the eyes. 

It was quiet for a moment, and Atsumu didn't have it in him to look at Sakusa, afraid of what he might find. Perhaps he could avoid the inevitable for a couple of minutes. 

But Sakusa didn't allow that thought to take place as he gently pried Atsumus fingers from the stems of the flowers, and in turn clasped them in his own (very soft) hands. ".....Thank you, Tsumu," he finally said breaking the painful silence. His voice was like wind chimes, hushed, as if he wanted to make sure no lingering ears were listening in on their private conversation, ensuring it was just the two of them. Just them. 

When Atsumu looked back up, he was greeted with a tender gaze, kind eyes and a velvet smile. Sakusa Kiyoomi was the human embodiment of beauty. 

Atsumu felt the butterflies in his stomach beat their wings against his ribs and tickle his sides. He felt drunk, like his bones had turned to mush just at the sight of Sakusa's delicate gaze directed at him. He felt smug— egotistical. He knew for a fact that no one else had the pleasure of receiving those smiles, those gazes that were worth gold. 

"Would you...like to come in? I was just about to sit down for dinner, if you wanted to join?" Sakusa said, pulling Atsumu from his reverie. 

Widening his eyes, he waved his hands around as he began meekly declining. "Oh, I shouldn't. It's pretty late already, and I wouldn't want to bother you," he said. 

"Really, it's fine. I made enough for two since Komori was supposed to join me, but he had to cancel, so now I'm stuck with extras," Sakusa replied. 

Atsumu flushed and wrung his hands hesitantly. "I really don't want to intrude.....," he trailed off, but Sakusa was having none of it. 

"Please," he said suddenly. Atsumu was so taken aback by the foreign word that just left Sakusa's mouth, that he didn't have time to formulate a reply before Sakusa continued. "It would make me happy." 

And, as if by magic, Atsumu's brain did a 180• spin, and he made his mind up. "Well, if you're insisting." Anything to make you happy. 

Sakusa just opened his door wider to let him in, and Atsumu stepped through the threshold, feeling as if he were entering a sacred temple or something. Hanging his coat on the coat rack near the door, he followed Sakusa's lead and found himself inside a quaint little kitchen that looked (unsurprisingly) polished to the T. 

Motioning to the table, Sakusa grabbed two plates and began walking towards him. "Take a seat," he said. Atsumu did as told, and Sakusa placed the plate of delicious looking food in front of him. His mouth practically watered as the smell of the hearty meal filled his nostrils. 

It reminded him of his mother's cooking. 

Sakusa took a seat in the chair across from him, and after giving a thanks for the meal, they both dug in. "Omi-kun, this is incredible! I had no idea you could cook like this," Atsumu said, careful not to speak with his mouth full. Sakusa just smiled in that special way he does, sending a flurry of butterflies back into his stomach. 

The rest of the dinner went like that. Small talk, quiet conversation and secret smiles here and there. Atsumu hadn't had this much fun in a long time. 

In the back of his mind, as he focused his attention completely on Atsumu who was very animatedly telling a story, Sakusa was thinking the same. 

They eventually finished their meals, and as Sakusa walked Atsumu to the door, bidding him a goodnight, Atsumu turned around to peer at him through lowered lashes. His pinky brushed against Sakusa's. 

"This was fun," he said quietly, smiling. We should do it again sometime, he thought the words, but didn't dare speak them. 

"It was," the curly haired man replied, leaning against the doorframe and regarding Atsumu with curious eyes. 

When Atsumu got home, he fell onto his bed and screamed into his pillow, before promptly passing out. 

••• 

Practice the next day was different. A good different, but different nonetheless. 

He got there early in the morning and was met with the sight of a red nosed, sleepy eyed Sakusa. He sent him a small smile and Atsumu nearly went into cardiac arrest from the feelings that attacked his heart. 

He then realised he had forgotten to return Sakusa's jersey to him, but when he had voiced this to said man, he merely stared back at him and shrugged. "It's fine, just keep it. It looked better on you anyway," he had said before waking out of the locker room, as if he hadn't just given Atsumu a boner right before practice was about to start. 

That wasn't even the last of it. During the entire practice, Sakusa would do very non-Sakusa things. Repeatedly. Things like brushing up against him when waking past, jogging over to Atsumu so he could help him wrap his fingers with tape, asking how his spikes were and offering to try out Atsumu's new sets, glancing at Atsumu with this look— this look that was all hooded lids and dark eyes and red, bitten lips. 

It was driving him crazy. In the best way possible. And apparently everyone else could also see this, too. 

"So, what's going on between you and Omi-omi?" Bokuto suddenly asked as he sidled up next to Atsumu. Sakusa had gone to refill his water bottle. ("I'm feeling really thirsty, Tsumu," he had said while looking straight into his eyes. Sneaky bastard). 

"What do you mean?" Atsumu asked back, despite the fact that knew knew very well what Bokuto meant. 

"Are you guys fucking or something," Hinata asked, popping up on the other side of Atsumu, scaring the living shit out of him. He was now being effectively caged between two very buff professional volleyball players. He probably wouldn't get out of this unscathed. 

"Wha— no! Why would'ja ask that?" He fired back, affronted. Again, he knew exactly why Hinata would ask that. 

"Maybe because Omi-omi is flirting with you?" Bokuto replied, taking a sip from his water bottle, all while eyeing him from the corner of his eye. 

"That's weird, y'know? Omi-san never flirts. And yet here we are. So, that must mean you guys are fucking, right?" Hinata asked, as if he had just solved an unsolved fucking mystery or something. These fucking teammates of his. They were going to drive him into an early grave. 

Sighing, he put his towel down and leaned back against the wall behind him. "We're not fuckin', okay? We're just.....I don't know, man, fuck. I had dinner last night at his," he finally spluttered out. Truth be told, he had been dying to tell someone about it. He felt like a schoolgirl talking to her friends about her first date or something. Wait— 

"Like a date?" Bokuto asked, practically speaking Atsumu's mind. 

"A—a date? I don't know about all that," Atsumu said, voice becoming high pitched as he shrugged his shoulders, almost self consciously. "He just asked if I wanted to eat 'cuz his cousin had to rain check, and he made dinner for two which he couldn't let go to waste and then we sat and ate and talked and I had a really good time and he said that he had a good time too and that he liked the flowers I had gotten for him and—" 

"Wait, you got him flowers?" Hinata's interrupted his long (embarrassing) rambling with an amused look on his face, that cheeky grin of his slowly creeping its way up his face. 

"Well, yeah, but it was as a sorry for being an ass earlier that day—" Atsumu tried to explain himself, but was once again stopped mid-sentence. 

"That was definitely a date," Bokuto said, practically vibrating in his spot, beaming from ear to ear. Atsumu was shocked his face hadn't split in half from the stretch of it. 

Just as Atsumu was about to deny what they were concluding about the night before, and tell them that no, it was most definitely not a date, Sakusa strolled back through the doors in all of his 6 foot something glory, taking Atsumus breath away. 

Before they walked off, Bokuto dropped a heavy hand down on Atsumu’s shoulder and leaned down next to his ear. “Make sure there’s a second date, okay?” he whispered, still grinning. 

Atsumu watched him walk away before switching his gaze back to the man of his dreams who was approaching him. “You ready to go?” Sakusa asked, eyes carefully trained in his own. 

A date, huh? 

“Yeah, Omi-kun. Let’s get back to it.” 

Once practice was over and Atsumu was chugging down some water, he silently contemplated the idea of inviting Sakusa over to his place. After last night, he really just wanted to spend more time with him. 

Mulling the thought over, he didn’t realise he was was lost in his thoughts until Sakusa walked over to him and gently tapped his shoulder before dropping his chin on his shoulder from behind. 

Atsumu’s breathing stopped. The oxygen was trapped inside of his lungs and he was pretty sure he had gone momentarily mute. Sakusa was touching him. Voluntarily. Even as he was sweaty and smelly and disgusting. He had his chin on his shoulder. In that cute way that clingy boyfriends do. 

Shit. Fuck. Okay. This was okay. He could handle this. Don’t freak out, Atsumu. 

“You okay, Tsumu?” Sakusa murmured low in his ear, breath blowing across his damp skin from how close they were. 

Oh fuck. This was not okay. He was not okay. 

“Y-yeah,” he said, voice coming out cracked and raspy. Clearing his throat, he spoke again, having made up his mind. “Yeah, I’m good. I was just gonna ask if ya wanted to come round ta mine? To, like, chill or whatever,” he said, blood rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

Sakusa removed his chin then, and turned to look directly at him. Atsumu found that he missed the warmth. “Yeah, I’d like to,” he replied, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let me just go shower first,” he said before walking off to do just that. Atsumu breathed in, returning air back into his body. 

Smiling, he followed after Sakusa into the locker rooms to have a shower of his own. He did not want to be in Sakusa’s presence any longer in his current state. 

•••

They walked through the front door of Atsumu’s home and took off their coats and shoes before venturing further into the place. Sakusa was looking around with interest, watching as Atsumu threw his keys into the bowl on his kitchen counter. “Nice place,” he commented, taking a seat on the sofa, looking ridiculously (adorably) out of place as he sat perched right on the edge. 

“Thanks,” Atsumu said, walking over and taking a seat right next to him, thighs touching. He laughed amusedly, grabbing the tv remote from the coffee table and reclining back into the sofa. “You can relax, y’know? Everything’s clean, I promise,” he teased, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as he flicked through the channels. 

“I-I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Sakusa started, sounding nervous, but relaxing, the tension leaving from his shoulders at the little chuckle that left Atsumu’s lips. 

“It’s fine, Omi-kun. ‘M just teasin’,” he said in a deep, laidback voice. The rawness of that tone sent shivers down Sakusa’s spine, and he slowly leaned back onto the sofa too, getting comfortable. 

It was quiet while Atsumu browsed through the options to pick something to watch. Neither of them minded the silence, and instead just basked in the warmth of the room. 

When Astumu finally settled on some documentary and threw his arm over the back of the couch, behind Sakusa’s head, it was then that Sakusa finally spoke. “Why did you invite me over?” 

Turning his head, Atsumu looked at Sakusa. A few seconds passed before he answered. “Why not?” At the unamused look on Sakusa’s face at his reply, he grinned softly before answering seriously. “Alright, alright. I wanted to spend time with you. Is that such a crime?” he asked, gazing into Sakusa’s eyes with the closeness he never had the pleasure of experiencing before this. 

“No,” he whispered back. “Not a crime.” They stared into each other’s eyes, and it was just the two of them. Just Sakusa and Atsumu. Nothing else mattered in that moment. 

Just then, Astumu glanced to the side and let out a small smile. Reaching over, he grabbed something behind Sakusa, arm brushing his own, before retiring back to his spot and lifting the object of his interest between them. 

It was a flower from the bouquet Astumu had gifted to Sakusa the day before. A yellow acacia flower. Concealed love. “It must’ve fallen out,” Atsumu said, keeping his voice low. The quietness of their conversation, on top of the coziness of the cold, winter night and their closeness, made it somehow seem more intimate. 

“Oh,” was the only thing Sakusa could utter. He was mesmerised by Astumu. Miya Atsumu. All bright colours and warm smiles and sunshine. He reminded Sakusa of the days he would go with his family to the beach when he was younger. Although he didn’t like the strange texture of the sand or the nauseating smell of the sea, he enjoyed sitting back on a towel, reading a book and bathing in the rays of the sun. 

Miya Atsumu was childhood summer days and nostalgic christmas nights. He was the sun, the stars and the sky. 

He was love in all aspects of the word. 

Sakusa had this epiphany then and there. On a cold winter night, huddled up close to his setter on an old sofa watching as Astumu placed the flower he was holding behind Sakusa’s ear, a small ‘there’ leaving those pink, supple lips. 

And it was in this moment that Sakusa realised he was so in love with Miya Atsumu. 

With this sudden understanding, Sakusa didn’t want to waste any time. He needed to take what was now his. Claim Atsumu. Hold him in his arms and never let go. 

Astumu was in the middle of talking about how pretty Sakusa looked with the flower in his hair when he felt a pair of lips press firmly against his own. His words died in his throat and his eyes were frozen on the face of Sakusa Kiyoomi, who was currently kissing him as if his life depended on it. 

Pulling back after a few moments, Sakusa licked his lips, hands still clenched around the neck of Atsumu’s top and looked into his wide eyes. “I love you, Astumu,” he whispered the secret, watching as shock passed through those gorgeous amber pools. “I’m in love with you.” 

Astumu couldn’t move from weight of the bombshell that had just been dropped. His arms were outstretched, as if not knowing where to be placed, and his jaw was hanging open. 

Sakusa didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t display any emotion on his face other than love. Love. Love. 

He was in love with Atsumu. 

And then, Atsumu smiled. He lifted his hands and placed them on Sakusa’s cheeks, cradling his face. Bringing his face closer to his own, their foreheads touched and they continued to gaze into each other’s eyes, unable to look away. 

“And I love you, Omi-kun. So, so much,” he finally whispered back, the words filling the silence of the room, wrapping around them like a blanket would. Sakusa’s eyes shone like the moon that was hung high in the night sky. 

Pulling him forward, Sakusa roughly placed his lips on Atsumus and kissed him desperately again. And again. 

And again. 

And he kept going— they kept going until their lips were red and sore and hearts full and tender. Until their cheeks were aching from how hard they were smiling and their hands constantly roamed over arms, shoulders, chests. 

This is it, Astumu thought, this is the finish line. 

There were gasps and pants and soft little sounds— and those words. Uttered between kisses, over and over and over again. 

I love you.  
I love you.  
I love you.


End file.
